


Dancing with Fire

by Shadowobsidian



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, And name-calling, Bucky gets tortured with a pulsing shower-head, Bucky refuses to be a Sugar Baby, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, D/s, Dominant Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, How the hell do I tag this?, Jealous Steve, M/M, Misuse of shower-heads, No feelings get hurt though, Possessive Steve, Shrunkyclunks, Steve is a good boyfriend, Steve wants to be a Sugar Daddy, Stripper Bucky, Very VERY slight spanking, submissive bucky barnes, throat-fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:54:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28905948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowobsidian/pseuds/Shadowobsidian
Summary: “I know,” the deep voice cut through the water and made Bucky jump, “you didn’t just take that tone with me, did you, Buck?”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 1
Kudos: 214





	Dancing with Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all know what plot bunnies are, right? This is one of mine, propagating in my brain for the past week or so and making it impossible to work on my other stuff. I foist it upon you now, may God forgive me.

“—and then there was that asshole with the _neck tattoo._ Jesus Christ, I was ready to break every single one of his fingers if he didn’t figure out to keep his fucking hands offa you, and then there was--”

“God damnit, Steve, can you _not?_ I’m trying to get all this glitter out of my ass-crack without a mirror, and you are not helping.”

Bucky knew the second the words left his mouth that he had seriously. Fucked. Up. There was nothing but silence on the other side of the frosted glass that surrounded the shower, but Bucky could see the fuzzy outline of a large body going absolutely still...then a blond head tilting and turning towards him. He swallowed thickly, rapidly blinking water out his eyes, refusing to look away as the broad shoulders followed the direction of the head, and then the hips, and then the legs…

He knew he should apologize, should say something, _do_ something, but the lizard part of his brain had taken over and was in full on panic mode. He knew that Steve would never, _ever_ harm him. Hurt him in the most pleasurable and mind-breaking of ways? _Hell_ to the yes. But actually harm him? He’d sooner cut off his own arm than make Bucky feel anything other than loved and cherished and possessed in the sexiest ways.

Bucky _knew_ this.

But watching that massive, strong, muscled body stalk towards the shower, movements silent and precise...he felt the most delicious shiver of fear trickle down his spine, heedless of the hot water pounding down around him. The silhouette stopped right on the other side of the glass, very nearly touching it, bringing the lines of Steve’s neck, shoulders, waist, and hips into clearer definition, but still fuzzy around the edges. Bucky could feel his eyes burrowing into him even if he wasn’t able to see the details of Steve’s face.

Shudders started rolling through his body, the adrenaline that had been slowly leaving his system since he stepped off the stage at work and into the waiting arms of his boyfriend surging back with a vengeance. His hands were locked beneath the swell of his ass, where he’d been trying to feel out the more stubborn pieces of glitter and sequins that his booty shorts always ended up shedding on him. He’d frozen the same time that Steve had, and had yet to reanimate.

“I know,” the deep voice cut through the water and made Bucky jump, “you didn’t just take that tone with me, did you, Buck?”

Bucky opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out, his entire being fixated on where Steve’s hand was lifting and moving and grabbing the handle to the glass door that separated them. The first _click_ of the door disengaging had him lashing out a hand to stop it’s movement, and he knew that he had once again...Fucked. Up.

“Oh,” Steve’s voice was calm to the point of nearing patronizing, and Bucky felt his knees turn to jelly. “Now I _know_ you didn’t just try to keep me from what’s mine, sweetheart. I _know_ you’re smarter than that, Buck. But I _know_ that you’re tired and distracted, and I’m willing to forgive you. _Once._ But only if you let go and say you’re sorry. So.”

The door was tugged on, just once, just gently, but Bucky had frozen once again, and he couldn’t get the bowl of oatmeal his brain had become to actually send the proper signals to his hand to release the _fucking_ door, and…

“I see.”

“ _Oh, fuck.”_ Bucky’s whimper was lost beneath the water as the door was slowly, _**s l o w l y**_ pulled from his now limp fingers and opened fully. There was nothing violent in the action, nothing aggressive or demanding, but Bucky shook like a leaf in a hurricane as Steve came into clear definition as the glass slid away inch by inch; broad shoulders clothed in a deep red button up with the top three buttons undone to tease at the dusting of hair beneath and the sleeve rolled to his elbows, legs sheathed in perfectly tailored black pants that hugged his massive thighs and defined his calves, feet bare on the heated bathroom tile...and a look in his eyes that promised Bucky everything he didn’t know he wanted, as well as a few things that Steve would give him, regardless.

They stared at each other for far too long, in Bucky’s opinion, until a single blond eyebrow was raised, cutting blue eyes slid down his body, and sinfully beautiful lips pulled up in a smirk dark with promise.

“That for me?”

Bucky blinked in confusion, tilted his own head down, then realized why he was feeling so dizzy all of a sudden. His cock was achingly hard. And leaking. And jumping with every beat of his heart. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered again, and this time Steve heard him. And laughed a laugh that had Bucky slumping back against the shower wall, legs giving out and not even able to fully register the chill of the tiles behind him. Everything inside of him was zeroed in on Steve.

Steve, who was looking at him like he was a prime cut of meat.

Steve, who was stepping into the shower, clothes and all, and sliding the door shut behind him.

Steve, who was suddenly up in Bucky’s space and stealing every bit of oxygen from his lungs, caging him in with his hands pressed near Bucky’s head, and leaning in…

“Turn around.”

Bucky’s eyes fluttered open—he wasn’t exactly sure when he’d closed them—and he looked up...and up...and _up_ into Steve’s eyes, confused and mush-brained and honestly expecting a kiss or something, but instead getting a mean-looking grin and words telling him to:

“ _Turn around._ ” Steve did not raise his voice, did not touch Bucky anywhere, did not look he was going to enforce his words in any way, but Bucky was powerless to resist, like always. Any time that Steve got that look in his eyes, or that smile on his lips, or that tilt to his head, it was like a spell was cast over Bucky, and there was nothing he could do but happily, eagerly, doubtlessly obey.

So he pushed away from the wall with arms that felt like noodles, a gasp shuddering out of his chest as the motion pressed him flush against Steve’s clothed front, the larger man not giving Bucky any more room to maneuver, staying locked in place as Bucky turns around and leans back against the wall, hands settling just below Steve’s.

Once Bucky’s hands are placed, Steve shifts just enough to breathe in Bucky’s ear as he kicked at Bucky’s ankles, widening his stance and arching his back. “I wouldn’t want you to think,” he said conversationally, like he wasn’t drowning Bucky in the scent of his warming skin, making his brain short-circuit and his veins feel like it they were filled with boiling treacle. “that after a long night of watching my boyfriend shake his ass for strangers, and watching those strangers try to put their hands on what’s _mine,_ that I would be anything but helpful to my boyfriend who comes home after a long night of smiling for other men, dancing for other men, _smelling like other men._ ” Steve had devolved in a snarl, but quickly reigned it back in to conversation levels, like Bucky wasn’t trembling and whimpering within the cage of his arms. “The boyfriend who I want to give the world to, but it just...too damn stubborn to let me be good to him. So maybe…”

He pressed in close, crushing Bucky against the shower wall for a single breath before pulling away again, a sound of fake sympathy slipping past his lips as Bucky nearly tumbles to the shower floor. “Maybe my boyfriend can be a little more understanding of my frustrations, and a little more appreciative of my restraint. But to tell me I’m not being _helpful..._ well that just hurts my feelings, sweetheart. The very last thing I want to be is _unhelpful_ in removing the stench of _slut_ from my boyfriend.”

Bucky’s forehead _thunked_ against the tiles, biting his lip to try an stifle all the sounds bubbling in his gut. He knew that Steve didn’t think less of him for dancing, was in fact incredibly proud of Bucky for insisting on paying his own way through college. Steve had more money than he knew what to do with, but Bucky wasn’t interested in being a sugar baby, and Steve, after working through the frustrations of being unable to show his affection financially, had nothing but respect for Bucky and his refusal to take any of Steve’s money or change anything about his life.

Bucky knew that Steve loved him and would never jeopardize his job at the club, or put any kind of ultimatum on him to quit, or think anything less of him for what he does to pay his bills. He knew that Steve came to watch Bucky dance as a safety net and support system, and never tried to buy a dance from him or get near the stage while he was dancing, because that was cheating the system that Bucky put in place, and it pissed Bucky off when Steve tried to cheat the system.

Bucky _knew_ this.

But, when customers were more grabby than usual, when Bucky got a few more bills than normal tucked in his waistband, a few more lap dances that Steve couldn’t supervise? And when Bucky snaps at him for his _understandable_ griping about the rough night both of them just had?

He got twitchy.

He got possessive.

He got _mean._

And it made Bucky feel the best kind of dirty.

A whine slipped past his lips as Steve pulled away fully, leaving Bucky’s back cold and exposed, his lizard brain screaming that he had a predator behind him and he should _runrunrun,_ but he stayed where he was put, keeping as still as he could, save for the tremors he couldn’t control. His ears were throbbing with the sound of his thundering pulse, and it took him a moment to realize that Steve was talking.

“You really do have a fair bit of glitter down there,” the large blond was saying, almost to himself. “It might be time to retire those shorts if they shed this much every time.” Bucky flinched as thick fingers traced around the bottom curve of his ass, just barely felt through the stream of water. “They really make your ass look incredible, though,” Steve continued. “Probably why the fucker with the neck tattoo couldn’t keep his damn hands to himself.” His fingers curled harshly against the giving flesh, making it bubble up between his fingers and making Bucky jump up to his tiptoes with a sharp hiss. Releasing his hold, he smugly watched his hand print bloom in white and red before bringing his palm down with a sharp _crack_ across the other cheek, laughing darkly at Bucky’s bitten off yelp.

He pulled back once again, absently hushing Bucky when he started making pitiful noises in the back of his throat. Rolling his shoulders and grimacing slightly at the irritating tug of wet fabric, Steve reached out to detach the shower-head, twisting the knobs to warm the water just a little bit more. Once he was satisfied with the temp, he smoothly knelt behind Bucky and started moving the shower-head up and down his legs, trying to soothe the smaller man and quiet his trembling, mainly so he wouldn’t topple over as Steve grasped his ankle and lifting it to his thigh as he shuffled closer.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” he said, his fingers following the water as he carefully plucked away every errant piece of glitter and sloughed away every sequin caught against Bucky’s skin; the crease of his ass, his inner thighs, his flanks, and the backs of his knees. His hands were gentle, the water was warm, and Bucky slowly, slowly relaxed beneath his ministrations. His breathing slowed, his muscles loosened...

And Steve thought nothing of cranking the shower-head to it’s most pummeling massage setting and pressing it against Bucky’s taint.

The sound that ripped out of Bucky’s throat sounded barely human, and Steve drank it up with a delighted laugh as he surged back to his feet, hooking his free hand under the smaller man’s lifted thigh to keep it up and pulling the spasming body flush against him. He buried his toothy smile in the crook of Bucky’s neck as his head arched back against his shoulder, tucking his teeth around the straining tendon and sucking harshly, settling nearly all of Bucky’s weight against his chest as the other man’s jerked like a live-wire, trying to get away while also trying to roll back into the punishing rhythm of the water.

Wounded noises flowed freely from bitten-red lips as every single nerve-ending in Bucky’s body zeroed in on the staccato pulses currently bruising his perineum in the most mind-melting way. His arms flopped like an out of control marionette, making Steve laugh against his neck and suck harder, bringing Bucky to his toes with the pressure of his mouth alone. His hair was in his face and water was slipping into his eyes, but he couldn’t give a _fuck_ while he felt a searing heat start to coil in his belly.

“There’s my sweetheart,” Steve cooed into his hair, fingers implacable as they lifted Bucky’s thigh even higher. “Moaning so pretty, Buck. Shake your ass for a hundred, a thousand other guys, but you always come home to me. Always keep this body out of their reach, because no one gets to touch you but me. Isn't that right, baby? No one but me?”

Bucky’s breath wheezed.

“ _Answer me.”_

He tried, he really did, but the moment he untangled his tongue and opened his mouth, Steve slid the shower-head just the _tiniest_ bit forward, putting the pressure just behind his balls.

His arms slammed into the shower wall with enough force to echo and most likely bruise as he curled forward, abs locking up completely, leg fully giving out, throat contorting around a strangled howl as he was suddenly _right there,_ orgasm clawing up through his spine to throb behind his eyes, nearly, _nearly--_

“ _Steve!_ ” The name was nearly unrecognizable as it was ripped from Bucky’s chest, his mind a sheet of buzzing white as his climax peeled away from his body, each milky rope of cum feeling like it was yanked out of his cock. He could faintly hear Steve’s laughter through the ringing in his ears, the pressure behind his balls not moving, keeping him locked up and his breath leaving him in high whistling pants as he _just kept cumming_. Spots started dancing in his vision, he couldn’t get a full breath, the air was so heavy. “P...lease,” he hissed, starting to shake uncontrollably, already tired muscles slipping into overworked shudders, unable to release any of the tension riding him. “’nly you, Steve. N’one else. _Please!”_

The shower-head was quickly removed and the sudden lack of any sensation had Bucky crumpling fully into the welcoming warmth and safety of Steve’s arms.

The next few minutes were something of a blur of Bucky, and when he was actually able to focus again, he was swaddled in a ridiculously big and ridiculously warm towel, cradled against Steve’s now bare chest as the blond strode into their bedroom and settling him on their bed, cooing sweet nonsense against his cheek and into his hair. He blinked a few times, looking up at Steve blearily, body pleasantly flushed and floaty as he took in all the deliciously wet and golden muscles on display as Steve stepped back and peeled his wet pants down his legs.

It took barely a thought and the briefest glimpse of Steve’s angry red cock to have Bucky shuffling around as best he could, getting his head hanging off the side of the bed and his mouth open wide. The hungry sound the Steve made when he turned and saw Bucky had the smaller man wriggling and straining, begging wordlessly as Steve stalked closer and stroked a finger up and down the stretched expanse of Bucky’s throat.

“You sure?” The growled question was eagerly answered with a nod and Bucky found his mouth full of Steve’s glorious cock, large hands buried in his hair and cradling the back of his head. Bucky let himself fall completely limp, eyes fluttering shut as Steve fed him inch after inch of his cock, rolling his hips smoothly until he was fully sheathed in the spasming wetness of Bucky’s throat.

He held himself there for a long moment, reveling in the soft choking sounds Bucky couldn’t help, watching the skin of Bucky’s throat dilate to accommodate his not insignificant girth. “Beautiful,” he breathed, the word stuttering into to a gasp as Bucky moaned around his aching flesh.

Unable to hold back any more, Steve started thrusting, working up to a harsh tempo as Bucky lay so still and trusting within his hands. Praise and worship fell from his lips as he moved, assurances of ‘Perfect’ and ‘So fucking _good’_ punctuated by gasps, growls, and moans. He watched as saliva began trickling out the corners of Bucky’s cherry red lips, catching it on his thumbs before it could get to his hairline, and smearing it back over the mouth stretched obscenely around his cock. He clasped one of his palms across the front of Bucky’s neck, enthralled by the way his fingers moved with the stretch as he thrust into that wet heat.

In what felt like hours, or just a few seconds, Steve barely got a growled warning past his bared teeth before he was spilling down Bucky’s throat, knees trembling as the smaller man swallowed around him eagerly, milking him for everything he had and more. He pulled back slowly, his cock twitching at the sight of his slick flesh still connected to Bucky’s mouth by several strands of spit until distance snapped them.

Ignoring Bucky’s slightly hoarse grumblings, Steve quickly got the other man straightened out in the bed before stepping away just long enough to clean up and down two glasses of water and fill another to bring to Bucky. He easily settled the swaddled man in his lap, wrapping arms and legs around him and giving him sips of water until the glass was empty. Setting the cup to the side, he twisted Bucky until he was sideways in Steve’s lap, cradled fully with his face pressed against Steve’s neck, breathing deep and easy. They stayed that way for a long time, Bucky randomly nuzzling into Steve’s cheek and Steve stroking long and firm up and down Bucky’s back.

Bucky broke the silence first, heaving out a deep sigh and slumping fully against Steve’s chest. “You’re an asshole,” he muttered into Steve’s neck, making the blond chuckle.

“Yep,” Steve agreed easily, pressing a smiling kiss against Bucky’s temple.

“I really fucking hated the guy with the neck tattoo.”

“I could tell.”

“My shorts are really getting old.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“…you can buy me a new pair.”

“Wait—really?” Steve was understandably surprised. Bucky’s hackles rose when Steve tried to buy him _anything,_ even if it was just a morning coffee. And durable dancing clothes weren’t the cheapest.

“Just one! One single pair of new booty shorts. Because I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier, and the glitter was really fucking irritating.”

“Aw,” Steve’s smile was wicked and wide, “and here I was hoping I could help you clean it off again.”

“Fuck you,” Bucky’s words carried a hint of a whimper. “I would die.”

“But what a way to go!”

“Fuck you,” Bucky repeated, burrowing further into Steve’s neck.

“Maybe in a bit.”

“Asshole.”

“Yep.”

“...I love you.”

Steve laughed again, a sound of utter happiness and joy, pulling Bucky in close and closing his eyes. “Love you, too, Buck. So much.”

“No silk, though. Shit doesn’t breathe or stretch.”

“…”

“Steve!”

“Alright! Fine!”


End file.
